Told by the Tarots
by Xeranthemum
Summary: Naruto, a romantic believer of faith, works as a psychic. Sasuke, a heartless logician, works both as a professor and lawyer. Naruto begins by chasing Sasuke’s fiancé but his polarity with Sasuke convinces Naruto to turn his attention elsewhere. NaruSasu
1. The Reading

**Full Summary: **Naruto, a romantic and believer of faith, works as a female psychic. Sasuke, a sly and heartless logician, works both as a professor and lawyer. "Destiny" collided them when Naruto begins chasing after Sasuke's trophy-fiancé but after seeing the differences between them, Naruto decides to use everything in his power to force his ideals onto Sasuke. NaruSasu

**Beta:** This anti-gay-and-anti-Naruto-guy-has-good-gramma-so-I-made-him-edit-it Person

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**Warning:** boy x boy, no likey, no read.

**Disclaimer:** No own so no hate, mkay? :p

-ooo-

**_Chapter 1_**

-o-

A typical nine-story apartment building in a typical urban neighborhood. A plain white hall with plain cherry word doors. A simple room on the fifth floor adorned with a shit-colored door mat.

And a loud banging could be heard within.

"Hurry up, Naruto! I need to use the bathroom too!" Kiba danced around, with his thighs clamped together. He pressed his hands between his legs, trying to buy himself time, as he rammed the door with his shoulder. "Hurry up already! What are you even doing in there?"

"I'm trying to pretty myself!"

Kiba's face fell. "Pretty your –what the fuck?" He shook his head before banging himself onto the door again. "I'm not kidding, bastard. If you don't get out right now, I'm gonna' piss right here, and I'm gonna' piss wide enough to make sure you have to step in some when you finally get your ass out of there!"

Kiba waited a few seconds because he actually didn't want to urinate the floor. But before Kiba had to prepare action on his empty threat, the door swung open, revealing a wigged figure in a dress so long that dragged on the ground.

"How do I look?" Naruto asked, batting his eyelashes as he flipped his fake hair.

"Sexy," Kiba muttered sarcastically before quickly shoving the boy aside and running towards the toilet. Naruto release a loud laugh when after Kiba slammed the door closed and sighed contently.

How did they ever become friends anyways? It felt like they've known each other forever…

Probably high school. Naruto didn't keep in contact with anyone before that period of his life, and he never attended college.

"Hey Naruto, what time is it?"

"Isn't there a clock hung somewhere in there?"

"Oh right… my bad."

Naruto could swear he saw his friend smiling sheepishly through the shut door…

Oh, that's right, they met in detention. He was the "class clown" and Kiba was the "class fool", and because of the similarities they shared (which was evident even in their nicknames), they quickly became acquainted. And before they knew it, time flew by; they flunked a few courses, went to summer school, and scraped up a high school diploma. It was then that they decided to room together and pursue their dreams.

Ever since Naruto could remember, he wanted to be a psychic; and ever since Kiba got rejected by every college he applied to, he wanted to open up a café. Together, they cheated on their taxes and lied to the bank about their credentials until they finally had enough money and loans to open up a quaint little shop two miles away from main street. In this two-story establishment, Kiba was given the first floor for the café that sold coffee, tea, and scones while Naruto was given the second floor to set up Madam KoKo Mai's psychic shop.

"Okay, I'm done."

"Then hurry up and get dressed." Naruto flopped down on the couch. "Gosh, I had to wait for you to sigh and moan through your five minutes piss, and now I have to wait for you and your fickle self to pick an outfit and change."

Kiba pulled off his shirt and threw it at Naruto, hitting him in the face. "Hey, hey, you have no right to complain. Blame yourself for egotistically checking yourself out in the mirror for half an hour."

Naruto disdainfully removed the sweaty Tee from his face and threw it to the ground. "Oh, look who's calling me egotistic. And I'm surprised you even know what that word means."

Kiba flipped Naruto his middle finger before turning back to his closet. Naruto tried to flip him back but when he realized his friend wasn't paying any attention to him, he grabbed the slipper lying on his right and aimed it for Kiba's rear.

Ever since Naruto was young, he believed in the unexplainable and the supernatural. Is there a God? Are there ghosts or spirits? Is there an afterlife? Does astrology work? And for him, the answer had always been either a "maybe" or a resounding "yes". Of course, a "maybe" isn't good enough for most people, and even the "yes" is often discredited because of the lack of physical proof, but it didn't matter to Naruto. He believed it, and that's what mattered.

Of course, as to why he wasn't just a psychic but a _female_ one…. There was a very good reason for that.

"Hot girls," Naruto muttered under his breath. Girls were, after all,usually more willing to reveal themselves to their own sexes, and Naruto wanted to take full advantage of that.

"Huh, what did you say?" Kiba finally finished changing and was adjusting the belt that secured his black slacks when he heard a mummer escape his friends' lips.

"Nothing," Naruto shook his head. "Let's go already."

"Fine." Kiba jammed his shoes onto his feet and opened the door before abruptly stopping. "Why do you have to take my car every day?"

The blond in the tangled brunette wig snorted as he stooped down to grab his own shoes. "Do you really expect a woman dressed like this to ride a bike like mine to work?"

"Well, can't you take the bus or something? Or at least put a paper bag over your head as we walk out?" Kiba looked his friend up and down, pausing to stare an extra second as his overstuffed bra. "Cus' no offense, man, but you're a pretty ugly woman. I bet the reason I can't get a girlfriend is because they think you're my mom and that I'm a mama's boy. –Or worse, they think you're my…"

Kiba stopped to shiver at the unspoken image, and Naruto rolled his eyes.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I mean, if I make an ugly woman, that just means I make a sexy and handsome young gentleman who was gifted with wide shoulders, sturdy muscles, nice--"

"Pff," and Kiba emphasized the first letter by spitting slightly on the blond's face. After Naruto, with an amused grimace, wiped his face and kicked Kiba in the shin, the two finally left the apartment.

"We really should get rid of that," Naruto motioned to the carpet as Kiba scuffled to lock the door. "Didn't your old dog crap on that before?"

"Yeah but that's why I want to keep it. It's a nice memory."

The dog had passed away about three months ago, and Kiba was such a sentimental idiot…

Naruto smiled and slapped him on the back, earning him an indignant yelp.

_Another reason why we're such good friends._

-o-

Sakura pulled back the curtains, letting the sunlight illuminate her brightly-colored hair. She struggled to unlock and open the window but could only manage a small gap. She thinned her lips before sighing, releasing her hold of the edges as she tried to breath in as much fresh air as she could.

Lately, Sakura hasn't been in the best of health. Although she was sleeping well and working out as much as she always did (which consisted of the minimum energy spent showering and walking home to/from the bus stop), she felt a constant strain in her nerves; a constant hump weighing down her back. But she didn't know why.

Sakura shook her head and walked a few steps into the kitchen. There sat, at the table, a handsome black haired man dressed in a neatly pressed suit. He was holding a red pen, jotting down comments on the stack of paper before him.

"Would you like anything to eat? It's about Brunch time, isn't it?" Sakura asked as she walked past him to open the fridge. The man did not answer; instead, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and circled the score he wrote on the top of the page: 88.

When she noticed his lack of response, she called out to him. "Sasuke?"

"Hm?"

"Do you want anything to eat?"

"Later."

Sakura frowned. Now she remembered why she hasn't been in too good a mood: Sasuke.

They had been engaged for a while, about two months, although technically, they had been engaged by their parents since the age of seven. And even though she only started living with him last week, she could already feel her cheer being drained out of her.

Sasuke… It wasn't that she didn't love him. On the contrary, he was the love of her life. She just never noticed, when they were still living apart, his utter lack of care, humanity, and interest in conversation. What worried and aged her the most, however, was her paranoia in thinking he did not return her feelings even in the slightest. And because of this, she always tried her best to please him. After all, what reasons did she have to believe he married her for anything besides convenience and image?

She walked over to him and smiled politely.

"What are you doing?"

Ever since she moved in, she's been trying to open him up with small talk and although it doesn't appear to be working, that didn't mean she should simply give up. And maybe –a frightening thought but still a maybe-, if he didn't love her, he would eventually fall for her not only because of her beauty and intelligence but also for her perseverance and wonderful personality.

"Grading papers."

"Anything I can help with?"

He frowned, displeased with the interruption, and turned to her to show his narrowed eyes. But deciding to be polite, he voiced out his mental message. "I doubt you can."

She wavered under the gaze but pressed on.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked in the most confident manner she could muster up.

"Well, do you know anything about Gideon vs. Wainwright, the Sixth Amendment, and the irony of the fact that he was guilty to begin with?"

A nervous sweat glided down her cheek; she just walked right into that trap. She was a fourth year college student double majoring in Biology and Psychology, and she had long left her knowledge of government in high school.

"N-no?"

He coolly turned her shoulders to her. "Then yes, I am sure you can't help," and went back to reading through his students' reports.

Sakura stood motionless for a while, a bit … he was the love of her life. A born genius who graduated early with honors and received a Law and teaching degrees all by the age of twenty-three, Sasuke was quite the perfect man. In fact, if there was a word in the dictionary for "beyond perfect", Sasuke Uchiha's picture would be posted right underneath as an example. And often, Sakura wondered if their families had not originally forced the marriage or if Sasuke had found a woman who better suited his status, would they even be together?

She felt her face getting red from the combination of embarrassment and disappoint that took on the mask of rage. "What's wrong with you?" she shouted. "Would it kill you to make a conversation?"

But when her fiancé barely reacted, only giving her a quick side glance, she stormed out into the hall.

"Fine, since you don't care about me, I'll just go out, dress like a slut, pretend to be single, and find someone else willing to make me his wife. Maybe _he'll_ actually talk to me!"

And even though she knew her outburst was a bit uncalled for, she stomped up the stairs and into her room to change. After all, what reasons did she have to believe he married her for anything besides convenience and image?

A few minutes later, after Sakura changed into a pair of short shorts, a brightly colored camisole, and a pair of sandals, Sakura descended back down the stairs. And sure, it wasn't _that_ bad but it was "slutty" enough for Sakura; she was a bit of a tomboy at heart.

"I'm leaving," she tried to announce nonchalantly as she quickly tied her hair up in a short ponytail. Then, taking care to emphasize her mood to Sasuke, she slammed the front door loudly and did not bother to lock up.

Sasuke continued grading the reports for a few more minutes. After he finished marking the one currently in his hands, he got up and walked over to fasten the locks.

"Over-emotional pain in the ass," he muttered before walking back into the kitchen.

-o-

Sakura wandered down the streets, trying her best to sway her hips. But when she realized how pointless the action was without Sasuke around to get jealous, stopped and strolled past the stops in her usual upright manner.

What was she in the mood for? Where did she want to go? She did have a twelve page term paper due tomorrow on neurotransmitters and MRI scanning, and she barely started the research… some coffee, perhaps?

She passed a few more stores, in search of a jar of instant coffee, but stopped in front of a nearby café.

" 'Coffee Me'? Cute name," she said to no one in particular, and soon found herself inside.

-o-

"A cup of Americano, a cup of Café Breva, and two cups of Dragon Well Green tea," Kiba muttered as he scribed illegibly onto a note pad. "But we don't serve croissants. Would you prefer scones instead?" And after the family of four nodded and placed their orders, Kiba quickly wrote it down –four Griddle scones, two cranberry and two blueberry- and went to the counter.

It was a typical business day at his café, with about three of the ten tables occupied by consumers, and Kiba was feeling overworked. Even though he had started his café shop quite a while ago, and even though three tables occupied out of ten wasn't much, he had been unable to hire any extra help because of his monthly loan payments. And after trying to balance three to four cups and plates on each arm, he sighed in defeat when they began wobbling to a near fall.

It would be nice if he could get some help… and it hit him.

"Naruto!" he hollered up the stairs. It wasn't like "Madam KoKo Mai" ever had many customers anyways. "Come down here and help me!"

But when after a few minutes passed and no one came racing down the steps, Kiba scowled and placed the orders down on a nearby counter. He rolled up his sleeves and began walking up the stairs when the door suddenly swung open, revealing a pink-headed girl in a ponytail. Suddenly, Kiba forgot all about Naruto and ran to greet the girl.

"Hello!" he said in an overenthusiastic tone of voice. "Welcome to my quaint little café."

And when she smiled, his face melted in a mush.

"Ah, yes," she replied in an oh-so dainty voice, so cute that Kiba couldn't stop checking her out. "How did you come up with the name for this shop?"

"Oh…," Kiba paused. Oh, what nice legs she has. "It's just a play on words, I guess. You know, 'feed me' except 'feed' is replaced with 'coffee'."

The girl giggled at that and Kiba walked her to an empty table.

"What would you like today, miss?" he asked after running back to the counter for his notepad and a menu. She glanced at the menu before closing it.

"What do you recommend?"

He smiled. "Well, our cream tea scones has always been pretty popular. It's light and cakey with sweetness and flavor. And if you would like some, it goes great with jam."

"Sure, I'll have one of those. But honestly, I came here mainly for the coffee. Any recommendations for that?"

But before Kiba could reply, loud footsteps descending the stairs caused the whole café to fall silent. Every head turned towards the rickety wooden ledges, as if waiting for something to happen, when a "woman" finally appeared. And when she noticed the staring eyes, she smiled and extended her arms out, as if she was asking for a hug from everyone in the room.

"Madam KoKo Mai is here!" she sang. "I'm sorry to have made you all wait but I am finally here!" She began walking towards Kiba but quickly stopped, thinking this was the perfect time to do some shameless advertising. "I'm work on the second floor if anyone needs a quick psychic reading or what not. I do tarot cards, future readings, and even contacting the dead! Just stop on by after your meals and I'll see what I can do."

She winked exaggeratedly at everyone, smudging the mascara all over her right eye and Kiba sighed before running up to her, yanking her away to a nearby corner.

"What are you doing down here," he hissed. She stuck her tongue and patted him on the shoulders.

"Why, good sir, I doth believeth you toldth me to come back here…th." Kiba rolled his eyes at the Cheshire grin that reached cheek to cheek.

"No, I didn't! I asked_ Naruto_ to come down here, not Madam CooCoo head."

"It's KoKo Mai; get it right."

Kiba narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I know it's 'KoKo Mai'. I was making a _joke_." Madam Mai let a manly chuckle escape her mouth before returning to her falsetto-ed voice.

"Well, I wasn't sure since it wasn't even funny. I thought it was just you being your usual stupid self." Kiba his hand, his fingers balled up in a fist, ready to punch the woman. He was, however, was interrupted.

"Um… excuse me?" he turned around to see the pink-haired customer from before, standing rather timidly in front of both of them. Her eyes roamed to Kiba's fisted hand towards the woman in the bad wig questioningly, and Madam Mai decided to answer the lady's unspoken question.

"Can you believe this man?" Madam Mai huffed, feigning the look of a wounded animal. "What kind of _ape_ would hit a woman? Feel ashamed of yourself!" she said as she slapped Kiba on the shoulders. "Feel very ashamed!"

"But--"

"Ashamed!" and she began slapping his furiously. After she felt he was bruised enough, she turned to the pretty girl, who she assumed to be in her early twenties, and grinned, as if she didn't just beat up and pushed away the café manager. "So what's your name? And can I help you with anything?"

She was taken aback but answered anyways. "My name is Sakura-"

"As in Ms. I-am-single Sakura or Mrs. I-am-not-single Sakura?"

"Eh?" She self consciously hugged herself when she realized Madam Mai was walking around her, looking her up and down. She smiled nervously before continuing. "Well, that's sort of what I wanted to ask you about."

"Uh-huh."

"I… was… wondering," she coughed and straightened herself up. "I was wondering how much a tarot card reading was. I want to see if my fiancé and I have a future together…"

Madam Mai stopped her pacing. "You're engaged?"

"Yeah."

She checked the girl out again before answering. "You guys don't have a future. You should break up."

"Ehh??" And Madam Mai broke out into a mischievous beam.

"So other single men could have a chance at you!" She burst into a fit of laughter, laughing uncontrollable at her own joke. "Okay, okay," she was trying to catch her breath, "I'll be serious now." She took in a deep breath and collected herself. Then, she motioned for Sakura to follow her up the stairs.

When they finally reached the top, Madam Mai drew open the hanging beads and made room for a hesitant Sakura to enter. Inside was dark, with the shutters closed and no visible electric lighting. The only thing that kept Sakura from stumbling into a fall was the illumination provided by a few sandalwood candle scattered around the room. She could make out a bookshelf, two tables, a few chairs and a cabinet.

"Please, take a seat," Madam Mai said as she sat herself in the bigger of the two tables, the one without the crystal ball. Sakura noted that upon entering the room, Madam Mai seemed different. More serious? Without the air of laidback humor surrounding her.

Sakura took the seat opposite her and fidgeted.

"Usually, a reading is fifteen dollars but because this is your first time here and the reading I think best fits the situation is a relatively quick one, I'll charge only ten." Sakura nodded pointlessly since Madam Mai had no real way of seeing it; she was turned towards the cabinet behind her, searching through its contents for her pack of tarot cards.

When she finally found them, neatly wrapped in a piece of darkened-gold cloth, she turned back to Sakura.

"Now, can you explain to me the situation again?" And she listened to Sakura while organizing the cards, making sure each was facing the same upright direction.

"I guess I'm just afraid my fiancé doesn't truly love me."

"So this is a love reading?"

Sakura nodded. "I guess." And Madam Mai hands her the deck of cards, motioning for Sakura to shuffle them.

"Focus on the problem as you are shuffling –and it may help if you close your eyes. Picture your emotions as colored air surrounding your body and try to pass it through it hands and into the cards. When you feel like you have completed that, place the cards onto the table."

As she shuffled, Sakura tried hard not to think about Sasuke's reaction if he knew she was actually trying this "spiritual non-scientific crap". And when she finished shuffling, the placed the cards down, and Madam Mai cut the deck in half.

"We will do a Llew's Spread, which is used to illuminate the problem or situation. Let's start." she said as she began drawing cards, placing five in the shape of a cross.

3

2 1 4

5

"The Llew's Spread is modeled after the different times of day," she explained for no apparent reason as she picked up the card in the middle before quickly putting it down. "This one here, the Three of Swords, represents 'Sun' and it shows the hidden aspects of the situation. The Three of Swords means you are hurt, facing heartache and fear, probably towards isolation or separation. Is your fiancé cheating on you? This card often implies the hurt comes from a triangle dynamic in relationship.

"The card to the left is the Seven of Cups, representing 'Dawn' and the situation that is manifesting. This card indicates that you have many dreams and numerous, sometimes conflicting desires. The Seven of Cups is usually a positive card, implying humor, thrills, and the fertility of the mind but it can also mean surprises and unexpected turn of events."

Madam Mai stopped to look at Sakura, to make sure she was still listening. She continued when she said the young lady at the edge of her seat, intensely absorbed by the cards

"The card on the top, 'Noon', represents the issue that cannot be ignored, and it is the Five of Cups. This means you cannot ignore the feeling of being emotionally manipulated, cannot ignored the disappointment you feel. It means you will feel disbelief and your heart will go through a slow healing process once you finally accept this truth. –But don't feel sad just yet!" she said when she noticed that Sakura's eyes were watering. "I'm sure your fortune won't be that bad. I mean, look! The next card a positive one!" But she was lying through her teeth. Only the last card, the fifth card, mattered and that card wasn't too positive either.

"Look at this card; it's the Knight of Cups. The Knight of Cups is a romantic man who is considerate, creative, and artistic. This card implies a friend or lover who is loyal, brings forth new philosophies, and gives good romantic advice. In this position, the position of 'Dusk', the Knight of Cups represents the help you will receive."

"That's wonderful!" she beamed. "Finally, a good card! I wonder who he is…"

"Ah… yes," But Madam Mai quickly continued on, feeling a bit uneasy for leading the girl to think her final outcome was positive. And if she became overexcited, she'd crash down twice as hard.

"Let's move on then, shall we…" And she pointed to the card on the bottom, trying to discreetly cover the name of the card with her manly finger. She however realized it was not working when Sakura gasped softly. Madam Mai let an awkward moment of silence pass by.

"Let's continue again…," and she withdrew her finger.

"Your final card is The Death and it is in the position of 'Midnight', representing the resolution of your situation. People often confuse the card death with the actual idea of dying," she added, trying to console the girl, "but it doesn't have to mean just that. Death more often means a change, an evolution. And even if the transformation is necessary, it could bring about fear because of how sudden it appeared but it doesn't mean it's a transformation for the worse…"

"And that is my tarot reading?" she asked when Madam Mai's voice trailed off. She kept her head down, glancing at her knees.

"Yes, that is your tarot reading." Madam Mai looked cautious at the girl. "It's not that bad of a future, right?"

And suddenly, Sakura stood up. She reached into her pocket and placed a bill on the table. When she finally lifted up her face, she had on a forced smile.

"It was a very interesting reading but I'm not sure if I'll believe it. Now if you'll excuse me," she began walked towards the exit, "I've got to get going now. I'm sure Sasuke will be worried since I've been out for so long."

She ran down the stairs, ignoring a confused Kiba who tried to wave her goodbye.

"What's with her?" Kiba asked when Naruto came down seconds after, but he didn't answer Kiba either. Instead, he pulled off his wig and dress and threw it at Kiba before running after her.

"Idiot," Kiba muttered to himself as he disdainfully pulled everything off his face; a few hairs from the wig were stuck to his opened mouth. "What if someone saw him changing like that?"

He looked to his right, then to his left. Noting that all the customers were too absorbed in their respective conversations to notice, he sighed and stuffed the costume behind the counter.

-o-

"I'm home," Sakura said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. She stepped inside and softly closed the door behind. When she walked towards the kitchen and noticed Sasuke in the same position she had left him, she sighed to herself.

Probably didn't even notice she was gone… And she beganup the stairs into her room to write her paper.

She didn't notice the blond who had followed her home, who was staring in from the window, wondering who "Sasuke" was. She also didn't notice the same blond memorizing her address before finally walking away.

-o-

**_End Chapter_**

-ooo-

Any comments? :)?

Feel free to share...

-points to button underneath-


	2. The Meeting

**A/N:** Two things:

(1) I forgot to mention before that the law and etc. in this story are American. Hope that's not a problem.  
And  
(2) I'm switching around the POVs because I realized I need to study third-person's more... But I hope I gave them all different voices :3

-o-

**Things That Might Have Confused You:**

Why Kiba is so stupid: There's a reason :)  
Why Sasuke is such a jackass: There's a reason :)  
(Everything is psychological, right? :o)  
What is a Major Arcana: Naruto will explain later.

-o-

**Beta:** Still that same guy.

**Disclaimer:** Yes, no, maybe so… but not really. In fact, not at all.

* * *

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**Chapter 2**

* * *

**KIBA:**

"Hey Kiba."

I glanced up lazily from the couch before groaning loudly. Oh no, Naruto had his I'm-gonna-change-into-a-bipolar-ass look on his face.

Here, let me tell you how to distinct it with his usual self. The usual Naruto is fun and cool, who would try to laugh even if someone spat in his face –he was just good-natured that way. The usual Naruto, my besterest bosom buddy, always bail me out when I'm in trouble, and he is like my soul mate… friend-wise; no nasty gay shit. We're like two peas in a pod… two corn kennels in a pod, or whatever. Point is, we're so similar that it's scary sometimes, and that's why we're such good friends. The only real issue I have against him is that he's sometimes a loser. Like how he would try to act all chivalrous, forcing his help on perfectly capable elders crossing the street or holding the door for random women who ends up slapping him, thinking he's a secret pervert.

But still –So he forgets what century we live in sometimes? Everyone has flaws and that's what makes them unique, right? All in all, he's very cool, with his cheeky grin and cheekier mouth. But when he gets into one of his moods, he becomes very…

Oh, what's a good word?

"Kiba."

"Hm?" I tried not to make eye-contact but you can tell by his voice that he was annoyed, probably by my zoning-out for a good minute or so. In fact, if you strained your ears and listened closely to his demanding yet toneless droning, you can tell he was transforming into NaruBastard. YesI know, that name is very clever; it took me quite a while to think that one up.

"What do you think of the Death Card?"he asked. And developing a sudden and very intense interest in my fingernails, I grunted in reply.

If I don't look at him, maybe he'll drop the subject. That's how it works with lions and bears and shit, right?

"So what ever happened to that girl? Sakura?" I asked, attempting to change the topic. I imagine he shrugged.

"What about her?"

"What happened after you chased her? Did you ever catch up to that woman?No, actually," I straightened my back, intrigued by my own gossip. "Why did you chase after her to begin with? Didn't do anything (I would have winked here if I had dared eye-contact) _interesting_, did you?"

I heard a sigh. "I don't know what you're talking about. And I don't like her; I only chased after her cus' I felt bad for giving her a depressing reading. I take my job very seriously, you know."

"Don't give me that bull crap! –She's cute, right?"

"I'm not you. It takes more than a looks to get me."

At that point, I gave up completely, stopped distancing myself and ran up to hug his head.

"Uh-huh, _sure _, you smooth bastard." Insert head molesting action. "I bet that's why you've been going out for so many 'walks' lately. Got yourself a girl, I see."

"I haven't! I was just buying grocery! –I wouldn't have to if you did it more often!" he said through clenched teeth as he tried to push my amazingly well-toned arm from his scrawny neck.

He was so, totally lying. I once even saw him trying to sneak flowers under his shirt.

Finally, I released him when I thought he suffered enough. …That and his flailing arms were getting annoying, hitting me in the face. Like a girls' slapping in a catfight.

"You sure you don't want to hear the story behind the Death Card and give me an opinion?" he said after straightening himself up. "It's a good story."

His voice trailed off near the end, giving off a totally pity-me-because-I'm-mad-innocent-and-just-want-to-share-my-interest-with-you air. But no, I wasn't going to fall for that again. Nope, not this time.

"I…erm," I paused for a moment, carefully picking my words. He wasn't exactly NaruBastard yet but he was definitely border-lining. "I mean, I would… _love_ to hear about but… I _can't_. I have to…

"Err…"

I looked around the room, trying to find a helping word. There was the couch –Clean the couch? When do we ever do that?-, the kitchen –Make food? I'd rather suffer through NaruBastard's droning story time than eat my own cooking-, the television? What would I do with that? …What about-

"Oh! Yes!" I tried not to grin but I don't think it worked. "I have to go shower!"

He lifted an eyebrow and frowned. "Shower?" And I lifted my arms and exaggeratedly smelled my armpits.

"Ya', I totally stink." A few fake coughs, as if the stench impaired my breathing. "You can smell it if you don't believe me." And quickly added, before he could reply. "No? Don't want to smell it? Oh wells, doesn't matter."

And I ran to the bathroom, locking the door shut behind me.

Kiba: 1 –narrowly avoided a full-blown NaruBastard transformation  
NaruBastard: 0

You might think I'm making a big deal out of this whole NaruBastard thing but trust me, I'm not. The best way to describe him? Let's see…

A bit like the cock-blocking teacher you loveto hate in high school. You know, the one that always throws complicated metaphors at you and nags you on shit you couldn't care less about.

"What are you doing in there? How come I don't hear the shower being turned on?"

Oh shit, I totally forgot that I was supposed to be washing myself.

"I'm… er… taking a dump! Yeah, crazy long dump!" I heard a sound coming from outside the bathroom but I couldn't tell if it was a stiffened laugh or an irritated grunt.

So okay, I will admit, I exaggerate my fear for NaruBastard –I guess he's not _that_ bad. He's just a pain and always seems to have a stick up his ass. Not the cool roommate I know and love.

One thing I did not exaggerate, however, is that he does act a bit bipolar. It's a little unsettling at times.

* * *

**SASUKE:**

There are two types of people I hate themost, two types of people I find the most pathetic. Mind you, I find many more than two types annoying but only two do I find most pathetic:

They are the people who sacrifice themselves to help others and the people who cannot separate reason from emotions. However, the people who have one of these traits often have the other as well. I guess it is a bit of a package, a covered and ribbon-wrapped personality that makes me want to vomit myself.

Why do I dislike these people so? Because they are worthless. Because they will always be used.

Because people who cannot distinguish the subjective from the objective are inefficient, hopeless, naïve, and quite frankly, an utter waste of air.

"What do you think of these people?" I asked my client as I looked the potential jurors over. Some were there because they wanted to do their part of the country, and some were there because they were too stupid to lie on the initial survey and get out of jury duty.

"What do you think? Anyone catching your eye?" I asked again when my client did not respond. A small boy with fierce red hair and a large tattoo. He's not exactly young –around my age- but I call him "boy" because mentally, we cannot be compared.

-That and I find his tattoo of "Ai" to be childish, stereotypical, oversized, and uncreative. He might as well have gotten a pony on his forehead instead.

"I don't know. You're the lawyer." His face twisted into a sneer. It was true, I'll give him that much, but the point of my question was to establish the idea –even if it wasn't an accurate idea- that I cared about his opinion.

This boy… He'd definitely try my nerves. But then again, as long as I get paid, it really doesn't matter.

I walked around the room, glancing around at the many faces, some anxious, some elated, some fearful, and some (not many) apathetic. I stopped in front of a rather thin boy, with hair spiked so high he reminded me of a palm tree, who was reading with an oddly uninterested look upon his face.

_Hammurabi's Code_? "Interesting choice in literature." The man slowly tore his gaze away and focused his barely-opened eyes onto me.

"Yes," came his grunt of a monotone reply. Although it could have easily be "yeah", "ya'", "yup", or even "sure, thank you for noticing."

"Can you tell me a little about it?" And he raised an eyebrow, although it was done so sluggishly that he could have simply be twitching his eyes in pain. Probably knew I was up to something but wasn't sure what.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well, aside from why you decided to bring that specific book here, I was wondering what kind of sentence you believe my client deserves."

He clapped his book closed. "Well, didn't he murder about twenty people?" I could feel the gaze of the other potential jurors falling onto us, when the solid and aggressive word "murder" was spoken. "Aside from the fact that many of them were his elders, I believe in the law 'an eye for an eye'. With that train of reasoning, you can safely assume that I believe your client deserves capital punishment, maybe even capital punishment twenty times over."

I smiled. This one wasn't too bad. He's not as stupid as the other idiots who tried to pull the same trick.

"What if I can prove that my client is innocent? What then?"

He shrugged. "I don't know if you can do that. I'm pretty narrow-minded, ya' know. Don't like changing my opinions much."

And my smile widened. Assuming and narrow-minded, this boy knows those are the two traits lawyers hate in jurors –and those are the two traits that can get him out of jury duty after passing the questionnaire.

I turned to my client, who was leaning against a wall, staring out the window. If this boy hadn't offer such a large sum for my services, I would've put this spikey-haired boy in the jury just for my own amusement.

But because I simply could not risk that, it would be better to remain safe.

"You can leave," I said to the boy, pointing to the exit, and you could tell he tried to bite down a grin upon hearing my words.

The day he received the jury duty notice, he probably went to his local library all the while thinking to himself, "I wonder what book can get me out of having to show up. I wonder what book would make me seem prejudiced and intolerant." And because there were no more copies left of Hitler's autobiography, he decided to bring in _Hammurabi's Code_, which he briefly skimmed during the bus ride here.

But even if my guess was correct and he proves to be an intelligent asset, with probably better logic than the rest of the jury combined (people these days are awfully stupid), it's better to remain safe. Assumptions are subjective.

The boy clasped the book under his arm and stood up, readying himself to leave. The moment he reached the door, however, someone spoke up. A round boy with an oily, pig-like face.

"Wait Shikamaru! You can't just leave! You were supposed to slip the book under your chair for me to use next!"

And when the spike-haired boy whipped around, with an expression torn between that of a livid murderer and a gaping suspect caught in the middle of his crime, I smirked.

Got him.

-o-

"Sasuke, Sasuke!" But I didn't stop walking. Probably wanted to do some nagging or share some insecurity. I will, however, give her some credit for calling me by my name. A few months ago, she went through quite an annoying phase, in which she insisted on calling me pet names. Honey, sweetie, you know, those stupid names women (and sometimes men without pride) all too often insisted on using. When I told her that I didn't do pet names and that I would ignore her every time she addressed me in such a ridiculous manner, she stopped.

Honestly, I don't know what my parents were thinking when they decided that I should marry her. Granted, I was only seven at the time and she was younger (not sure how much younger since I never bothered to remember her age) and my parents didn't know she would still be a measly college student while I had graduated long ago, even then, they should have been able to tell she didn't have nearly as much potential.

We are an uneven match; anyone with eyes can see that. The only problem is that not many people have eyes. They cannot see how utterly different and unfit for one another we are. They see a smart and pretty girl when what's really there is a reasonably fair girl from a reasonably well-off family about to graduate from a reasonably modest college. And although I have fulfilled my parent's dying wish (they died when I was around ten) by starting a relationship with this girl, they never said anything about me having to be with her forever. The minute someone better comes along –although that might take a while, seeing as how unsatisfying most of the world is-, I'll trade up.

I'm pretty sure I've hinted these few facts to her before, especially the last one, but for some reason, she doesn't seem to waver much. Does she think I'm being "hard to get"? Maybe I should just outright state that it would be easier for the both of us if she simply gave up.

"Sasuke, Sasuke." I stopped this time and turned to her, but only because my client gave me a questioningly look, wondering why I was ignoring my fiancé.

I guess I should at least keep up the image of a real relationship in public. "Yes?" I asked her, smiling sweetly. You could tell she was taken aback when her mouth fell slightly open but she probably remembered my policy about public image when she recovered quickly after.

(I'm not sure why I tried to keep that image when the only person around was my obviously guilty client, who had no right to judge me in any way, considering the fact that he tortured twenty people to death. I guess it's just my pride.)

"How is the trial moving along? Did you select the jury yet? When is the trial? And how is the work on your new book? Are you tired? Do you want to rest a bit later and go out for dinner?" An annoying barrage of questions. My hand flew up to pinch the bridge of my nose but luckily, I caught myself just in time.

"The trial is moving along just fine." My cheeks burned slightly from smiling. "I submitted my choice for the jury and the trial will start if the prosecution accepts my selection. As for the other questions… Do you mind if I answer them later? I am still with my client, making this my work time, and I don't believe he would be happy with my performance if I stood around idly too long in conversation."

Usually in public, I try not to spell out my logic to her but often, I am not _completely _successful. Like then, for example. Probably because her questions were too stupid (as they usually were) for me to do so.

She nodded dumbly, hurt escaping her face, and since the tattooed boy was still staring, I added an "I'll call you later." She brightened up a little and nodded again. Giving her one last smile before turning away, I motioned for the boy to follow.

"Everything alright?" he asked when we were outside Sakura's hearing range.

"It's fine. Why do you ask?" I loosened the muscles on my face and widened my eyes for a look of cluelessness. He narrowed his eyes, examining my expression, before shrugging, and I changed the topic back to his case.

Really, people should learn to mind their own business.

* * *

**NARUTO:**

The Death Card… it really isn't that depressing a card. I mean, when the woman, Sakura, ran out of my shop close to tears, I chased after her without much thought besides "I cannot let my tarot readings bring tears to anyone eyes. I refuse to let one of the most important things in my life leave others with a bad after-feeling."

Kiba was right, though; I had started visiting her, but it wasn't on purpose. Just that it was my month to do grocery shopping and every time, on the walk home, I found myself at her doorstep. Even got up the courage to ring the doorbell once, but no one was home. Wasn't sure what I could have done if anyone answered though… hadn't thought that part out.

I brought flowers with me that time, I guess as a "sorry" present, but now that I think about it, why was I even sorry? Sorry that you misinterpreted the meaning of the last card? Sorry that if you didn't misinterpret, your life sucks? Either way, it wasn't really my fault…

"Naruto, ya' ready yet? I swear, you're such a bathroom hog! You're not even changing into your weird costume today so you don't have an excuse."

I was in the bathroom, the sink running with full force blasting water onto my already-clean hands.

A lot of people don't realize this but there's a story behind every card, a Welsh tale from the Middle Ages. Each card, a story left open for interpretation.

_Major Arcana _number thirteen, unlucky number thirteen, is _The Death_ and usually a picture of a skeleton or hooded figure hunting down society. But the tale itself is nowhere as depressing.

The story behind the card is the story of Arawn, lord of Annwn, and his encounter with Pwyll, lord of Dyfed. Annwn, meaning "underworld", can be thought of as a sort of hell although, in a more evolved form.

The story goes like this: Pwyll was out hunting one day when he saw a glistening stag being chased by a pack of hounds. He decided to chase off the dogs but a hooded figure soon arrived and demanded Pwyll ask forgiveness for stealing his prize. Pwyll conceded, fearing the hooded figure's vengeance.

Pwyll asked for a way to make amends and the hooded figure Arawn, introducing himself as the ruler of the underworld, told Pwyll that he must trade places with him for a year, taking Arawn's place in his yearly battle against rival king Hafgan to decide the lordship of Annwn. Not only must Pwyll fight Hafgan, he must also win with one strike, for striking him a second time would bring him back to full vigor.

Pwyll reluctantly agreed and upon entering Annwn, he was met not only with the beauty of the castle but also with the beauty of its queen. But out of respect of Arawn, he did not sleep with her and kept to himself for the year.

Basically, the ending is a "they lived happily ever after" ending. Pwyll defeated Hafgan, refusing to give him a second strike when Hafgan pleaded for one. When Arawn heard the news of this and the fact that Pwyll did not sleep with his wife, they began fast, loyal friends. And when Pwyll returned back to Dyfed, he was told that never had his rule been so wise as the previous year.

"What does this story have anything to do with death?" was what I asked myself when I was first introduced to the tale. But after a while, if you block out all the extra details, you can see the idea that underworld is not a place filled with horror, that it is simply a new era, a new adventure. In the end, death is often a blessing, a release from the sufferings that makes life.

…That's probably the real reason as to why I'm bent on finding Sakura. To tell her that there's nothing wrong with change, that I hope she won't hold tarot cards in a negative light because of the reading I gave her. But maybe it's best to leave her be? Everything happens for a reason, and I believe life is guided by fate.

"Hurry up already!" Kiba was banging at the door, and I could almost swear I heard the wood cracking under his ape-like hands.

"Yeah, seriously, how long as you gonna' make us wait?"

I snorted after hearing Choji's words. Really, I was doing him –and Shikamaru- a favor. He had no right to complain.

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

I turned the faucet off and whipped my hands dry on my shirt. I glanced at the mirror –looked decent- before racking a hand through my hair.

"Why were you in the bathroom for so long? I don't see any difference in you –Didn't gel your hair or anything. Instead, you just look messier." Kiba laughed to himself, as if what he had just said was a hilarious joke. I grimaced in reply.

"Maybe I was just taking a dump, a 'crazy long dump'?" And when he stared puzzled at me, too stupid to understand my reference, I just muttered a "never mind" before grabbing my socks from on top the drawer.

He whistled. "Seems like NaruBastard is emerging, huh?" he joked to Choji, Shikamaru, or both; I couldn't tell with my back turned to them.

"Maybe he's been on the verge of emerging for quite a while," I replied, and I could feel Kiba stiffen-up as the air tensed.

I don't know what this "NaruBastard" business is or how it even started. I mean, Kiba talks about me switching between moods or personalities or whatever, but I don't feel it at all. It makes me feel a bit self-conscious sometimes but in the end, I think he's just dumb.

"Hey, just ignore him." I looked up when I felt a hand, Shikamaru's, on my shoulder. "He's just messing around."

I sighed. "Yeah I know… but still," I paused to stand up. "Do you think I change into 'NaruBastard'?"

He withdrew his hand, crossed it, uncrossed it to scratch his head, before stuffing them into his pockets.

"I sorta' understand what Kiba means but I don't really see it the way he does." He shrugged. "It's more an impassioned Narutothan a bastard Naruto. Your passion just makes you more serious and irritable, that's all."

I laughed at that, probably laughed louder than needed but it was to release the pent up tension in my stomach. Although I wanted to, manly men don't embrace each other, and instead, I settled for punching Shika in the arm. His lips curved into a half smile and since the mood was there, I went and punched Kiba and Choji as well, taking care to punch Kiba an extra two or three or fifty times.

Playfully, of course.

"What the fuck was that?" Kiba asked as he rubbed his arm, but I didn't reply. Went straight out the door instead, with a spring in my hop, and motioned for the others to follow.

Onwards to the courthouse!

* * *

**THIRD-PERSON's:**

It was a bit of a chilly Wednesday, with the sun mostly hidden behind a thin veil of clouds. Trees were balding, losing their leaves as they fell in a colorful array. Some children went out of their way to step on them, attracted to the sound of the drier ones crumbling beneath their feet. They were soon pulled away by their parents, however, when a mob reporters began to gather, rising from their hiding places behind trees and bushes and parked cars. Gathering around the court house, the Supreme Court of the State, they positioned their tripods, microphones, and cameras before finally erupting into chaos upon the arrival of a black Mercedes.

"What's going on?" Choji asked before chocking on his mouthful of BBQ flavored potato chips.

"Think they're waiting for the killer to arrive," Kiba said as he stood on his toes, trying to see the figures exiting the Mercedes. Naruto halted his conversation with Shikamaru to skip up to Kiba.

"Or," Naruto said, swinging an arm around his best friend's shoulder, "they could be waiting for us!"

Kiba pushed the blond away. "In your dreams!" But he did so with a grin.

The four walked on, with Shikamaru trailing a bit behind. When the three noticed –more specifically, when Naruto and Kiba noticed as Choji continued humming while eating-, they slowed their pace.

"Why the long face?" Kiba asked as Naruto nodded in agreement, pulling his cheeks down to emphasize and exaggerate how "long" Shikamaru's face looked.

"Glad to see you're in a good mood again," Shikamaru muttered to Naruto, who threw his head back and chuckled loudly, "but I guess I'm just peeved at having to be here."

"Peeved?" Kiba asked questioningly.

"Pissed, peeve, same thing." And as Kiba released a long "Ohhhh", Naruto jabbed the scruffy dog-like boy in the ribs before smiling smugly at Shikamaru.

"Why? Don't like jury duty?" Oh course he didn't like it; none of them liked jury duty, least of all Shikamaru.

"Ha, ha, laugh at my pain, but it's all that fat boys' fault," Shikamaru pointed an accusing finger at Choji, who simply threw back a bewildered look.

"Hey now, that's not nice. I personally find Choji to be fit and dashing." Kiba threw Naruto a thumps-up agreement. Shikamaru shook his head before leading the others away from crowd, towards the back entrance.

"It's not funny; you know how much I hate jury duty. And a murder's trial can take up weeks," he groaned. "If Choji wasn't such an idiot and brought a book of his own, I wouldn't even have to be here."

Naruto cocked his head. "A book?" He looked towards Kiba, who replied back a confused shrug. "What do books have to do with jury duty?"

Shikamaru sighed before folding his hands behind his head. "Never mind. Complaining about it won't do much anyways." He began ascending the flights leading up to the white-pillared entrance.

"You two can't come in here," he said when Kiba and Naruto began climbing up the steps as well.

"Why? I thought you said this was an open trial and you guys wanted us here-"

"In case you got bored and wanted to see familiar faces." Kiba smiled to Naruto for finishing his sentence, and Shikamaru rolled his eyes.

"Actually, Choji wanted you guys here, not me. But this entrance isn't the public one. You guys gotta' use the door in the front."

"The one with the flood of people?" The roommates exchanged a wary glance when Shikamaru nodded. And after forcing Choji to throw out his chips and dragging him by the back of his collar, Shikamaru waved Kiba and Naruto a lazy goodbye before entering.

"So… what now?" Naruto peered around the corner, unsettled by the uproarious crowd of people.

"Now, we must brace ourselves and enter the battlefield." Kiba declared, thrusting an arm forward, as if it was holding a sword, and using his other to pull Naruto along.

"Dumbass" Naruto muttered but threw an arm forward as well.

The two pushed and shoved through the crowd, stepping on a few feet, receiving a few indignant screams in the ear along the way. After a few minutes of this and Kiba realized they still were not even close to main entrance, he yelled.

"Ahh!! What's with all the friggen' people? Seriously, if they want to see a murderer so badly, can't they just sit at home and watch some T.V.??"

"It's not the murderer they want to see," an annoyed reporter responded after Kiba, amidst his scream, stepped on his new leather shoes, "It's the lawyer."

"And what's so special about this lawyer?" Naruto asked when he realized Kiba was too busy receive whacks for being a "rude, loud-mouthed asshole" to respond.

The reporter opened his mouth to answer the blond but before he could, another voice intercepted the conversation.

"Because this lawyer is a born genius," the person, a man judging by sound, answered for the reporter, "and little boys like you shouldn't be here taking up air, especially if you don't even know that much."

Having been raised fairly well, Naruto was taught at a young age to always respect elders. And having hear the phrase "little boys" loudly in that scolding, his ears turned slightly red. Swerving around, he lowered his head in preparation to bow and apologize. But the minute he turned around, he noticed that not only had the reporters hushed into a lulled silence and taken a few steps back to give him some space, but the elder who had just berated him was no elder at all. In fact, it was a young man who looked no older than Naruto did.

"What's with that pose?" the young man asked with eyebrows raised so high that it looked to Naruto as if they had disappeared into his hairline. "If you don't need anything, move aside."

With a tug to straighten his neatly ironed suit, he smirked before strolling up to Naruto, pushed the blond aside with his shoulder, and motioning for his red-headed companion to follow.

"What was that?" Kiba shouted angrily as he helped Naruto, who had fallen down after being shoved aside by the lawyer, up to his feet. The media was dispersing, some by trying to file into the building and some by scattering elsewhere in search of other news.

But Naruto didn't answer Kiba. Instead, he began up the steps towards the main entrance, his mind to preoccupy to process a response. In his head a record player was stuck on replay, and his grimace deepened every time he heard it.

_"Little boys like you shouldn't be here taking up air."_

It was a phrase he wouldn't forget anytime soon.

* * *

_End Chapter_

* * *

-o-

My knowledge of law isn't very extensive and the all the information on the tarot cards is based off one book. So if anyone wants to correct me on anything, feel free :)

**HOWEVER, Please Don't Leave Reviews Telling Me:  
**(Oh snap, double standard :P)  
(1) Jury notices are given very early so Shikamaru shouldn't have to read his book last minute: I know; I'm just making him like a lazy procrastinator.  
(2) Lawyers do not assume their client is guilty nor is the client allowed to reveal that information: I know; it's just to show that Sasuke is a jackass (and a bit of a hypocrite).  
(3) Trials are not often televised: I know; it's to show that Kiba isn't knowledgeable in law.

-o-

**Poll (Sort of):**  
(1) Should the prosecuting lawyer to be Sai or a random, unimportant person? And if "yes" to Sai, should Sai like Naruto/Sasuke?  
(2) Should Gaara –assumes you figured out who Gaara is without mentions of a name- like Naruto?


End file.
